Six Hours of Non-Stop Fucking

Sex, in Lois Lane's experience, did not normally last long. She had in her youth known the four-pump-chumps of horny teenagers, so **** for pussy that they spent within a minute. At university, even the most ungracious of her lovers sought to stretch it out—foreplay leading eventually to oral sex, and then penetration, and the even then it was often over within ten or twelve minutes, often long before she came. As an adult her selection of partners was fewer and far between...but she had grown, and her lovers had been responsive, willing, and able to last for at least an hour from the first touch to the final spurt of jizz over her back.

She had heard, in such a way to believe it, that some tantric adepts could extend the sex act to **** lengths. Hours, in some cases, their control over their ejaculation and their shifting of positions such that the whole process could last long into the night. So too, viagra greatly extended performance times, and Lois had once or twice been extremely grateful for the little blue pill—since those were the only times she had cum with a partner during sex.

Getting impregnated by Blaze was something else again.

At first, the reporter was determined to give as good as she got, amazed at the dickgirl's stamina after that first creamy load deep inside Lois Lane's unprotected cunt. This had, as the minutes ticked by and a second load was pumped deep inside her pussy, turned to disbelief, and finally to something like horror, as the half-hour mark saw a third shot of jizz hit the back of her vagina.

Lois had insisted on changing position, rolling Angelica Blaze onto the floor. On top now, her hands freed the woman's breasts from her dress, and the reporter's hips rolled as she took the still-hard cock deep inside her cum-slick slit. Determination set in as the reporter began to slide her pussy up and down, reaching back to fondle and gentle squeeze the hairless testicles between the dickgirl's legs.

Going to slay this beast, Lois Lane told herself. One of us is going down!

Pregnancy was almost an afterthought at this point. By the time Lois was gasping and drooping a little, cunt soak and packed with sperm, Angelica's cock as hard as ever, the clock chimed the hour. Lois felt the cock tense as it shot a sixth load into her overloaded slot, excess seed oozing out of their conjoined genitals to splatter against the madam's dress.

"How the hell do you have anything left?" Lois gasped. "It isn't natural.

The dark-haired woman shot Lois a secret smile.

Then they rolled again, and Lois Lane was on her back, a pillow from the couch stuffed under her ass to raise her hips, her legs resting on the shoulders of the dickgirl determined to impregnate her.

"I don't...I don't get it..." The reporter huffed as Blaze began to lazily thrust, slowly picking up speed and ****. "There must...must be enough jizz in me to impregnate a platoon..."

The wet smack of the dickgirl's balls sounded throughout the room as she began to plow the reporter's pussy more deeply.

"Ah, but you haven't taken yet." The dickgirl's eyes flashed. "It can take up to six hours for a fertilized egg to attach. Probably the seed I've already shot into you will do the job but...well, why stop while we're having fun?"

A haunted look crossed the reporter's face then, as she realized that she had prepared for a sprint and found herself in a marathon.

The clock chimed the hours. Lois stopped counting the ejaculations, though they came a little farther apart each time, the dickgirl's superhuman stamina pressed to the limit. By the third hour, the reporter's pussy felt puffy and raw, jizz dribbling down over her asshole, and she had suggested a change of pace...her mouth, her ass, anything. Blaze had only smiled and demurred, rubbing her lover's stomach and talking about how big she was going to get with the baby.

By the fifth hour, she was talking about babies.

Lois had almost lost interest. Her brain felt like the jizz had seeped into it. She had once interviewed a woman who had been gang-banged by fifty men for a pornographic video, and the woman could still stand and walk at the end of it, although she was tired and exhausted, thighs gaping apart, sex looking painfully swollen...and Lois remembered that the woman had confessed that when she got home tonight, she would have to let her partner fuck her. There was no grim determination or wearied resignation in the tone of voice. Just the matter-of-fact statement that that was how it was going to be. ****, taxes, and letting her boyfriend plug her pussy until he shot his salty load into her fertile snatch.

The reporter understood that now, as the clock ticked down to the sixth hour. Angelica Blaze was slowing down, and Lois Lane's lower half from the belly-button down looked like an obscene Pollack painting, dried streamers of jizz on her belly, waist, and thighs, pubic hair hopelessly matter and lost...and that was all from spillage, because ever single drop had gone into her cunt, until the endless fucking and the next surge of jizz had **** it out.

Finally, Blaze crawled to a stop, her cock deep inside of Lois, throbbing gently...and Lois couldn't tell if she was squeezing one final drop or if that was a ghost load, the dickgirl's balls finally exhausted. Somehow, it didn't seem to matter.

"We did it," Angelica Blaze said with dread certainty.

"You're not human," Lois said with equal certainty. Her voice was weak, but she did not throw the accusation idly.